


Loving Him Was Red (Wine)

by OnceAlways



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-26
Updated: 2018-11-26
Packaged: 2019-08-29 14:03:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16745374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OnceAlways/pseuds/OnceAlways
Summary: Inspired by red wine, T Swift, and watching an interview with Emily Bett Rickards in which she revealed the character she most hoped Felicity could share the screen with is Veronica Mars (shoutout to Roxy Striar!).





	Loving Him Was Red (Wine)

“Are you drinking red wine through a straw?” Oliver asked throughly bewildered considering that he literally broke into Felicity Smoak’s apartment upon hearing screams only to be met with the startled petit blond leaping from a cozy looking yellow sofa, the red liquid in her glass threatening to spill over. 

“What? No! I mean yes, technically. It’s just you know I occasionally slash frequently indulge. I meant not frequently. As frequently as any other adult does! And so I got paranoid about it staining my teeth so I thought a straw might help but now I look like a wino toddler and usually that’s fine because it’s just me, all alone, here in my apartment drinking the wine from this very adult straw. But now you’re here in my apartment watching me drink through said straw and now I’m questioning everything. Like for example these,” Felicity gestured at her pajamas which at the time of purchase felt fancy considering they were a pink silk (faux because until very recently she worked in an IT department) long sleeve-long pant combo that featured French food staples like cheese and bread and wine with the French word for said food written in cursive script beneath each image. “I mean they are a bit misleading because I don’t speak French, nor have I been to France but I do know what vino means which is this,” said Felicity raising her glass whose contents once again came dangerously close to spilling onto her colorful Moroccan rug. “Plus they are aspirational, really. I do hope to go to France. One day. At some point. Not right now, obviously! Because whoosh.” she babbled while miming shooting an arrow. Once again, the red wine almost ruining Felicity’s Moroccan (via Wayfair because she was not a Queen or Rockefeller or Scrooge McDuck). 

“Right. Lots, uh...lots going on.” Oliver managed to choke out while greedily taking in her make up free face (those freckles), loose hair (had he ever seen her in anything but a ponytail?) , and (hecking!) adorable pjs. 

“But I do suppose they should be more sexy?” and again Felicity hated the fact that what was meant as a statement came out more of a question. 

“Umm, what?” came Oliver’s incredibly articulate reply desperately trying to focus on her words while taking in his genius right hand in her natural habitat. 

“It’s just red wine is the lingerie of wine. Rosé is a cute romper on a spring day, white is a fun sundress on a July Saturday night, but red is like fishnets and pumps and red slinky dresses on girls with sexy French accents waltzing along the Champs-Élysées. And I am none nor wearing any those things! So I should probably put this down?” Once again her voice betrayed her, coming out more of a question than statement as she gently set her glass down on her warm, wooden coffee table. She never asked a man permission in her life, well except her boss at Queen Consolidated for Rash Hashanah off last year. But besides that, men be damned! 

“But you are.” Argued Oliver as his brain finally became verbal again after taking in the beautiful tableau that was domestic Felicity. 

“I’m what?” came Felicity’s breathless reply. 

“Sexy. And incredibly beautiful. And astoundingly smart. Ridiculously patient. Amazingly accepting. Just...overall breathtaking really.” 

“Oh.” she responded literally feeling her freckles come into more stark relief under her blush. “Um, Oliver?”

“Yes?” 

“What are you doing here? In my living room?”

“Oh, I heard you. Scream” he explained as if it were as natural reaction as closing your eyes during a sneeze. Like lurking in one’s apartment hallway was a commonality. 

“Righhhtt. I was just reacting to the news of the Veronica Mars reboot. You know they’re bringing everything back under the sun from Roseanne to Kit N Caboodles. Who knew they would actually bring back something worthwhile? I mean women, heck the world, could use a female superhero armed with nothing but her brain and wit fighting evil without a cape, right? 

Oliver found himself nodding at whatever would bring such passion to her voice. 

“Not that we don’t also need men in green leathers and hoods running around fighting crime too. There’s room for both!” she hastily amended. After a breath “I assume you missed the show? You know because being marooned on an island?”

Again all Oliver could manage was a nod. 

“Well I still have half a bottle and some popcorn? We could Olivia Pope this?” 

And again Oliver nodded having understood 5% of what Felicity was saying, knowing nevertheless he didn’t care because she was offering him a bit of domesticity. Kicking one’s heels back watching TV. A bit of home. So yeah, Oliver was going to agree to whatever was suggested. 

“Great! Oh, and Oliver?”

“Yes?” 

“Thank you. For the rescue and all. I know I didn’t need saving today, but I know that if or when I do, you’ll be there.”

“Always.”


End file.
